Friday, December 23, 2016

~ What Hurts the Most ~

(Based on a true story)

Along the dusty aisles do I stroll
Graffiti speaks on the wall

Leave I do every morning
From the dusty shack itself mourning

Stroke the smiling mumbling innocent face I do
Wiping away tears that never come out ado

Dirty rags and bruised elfin feet hurt I know
Feet hurt they do but mind cries that too I know

Queens O' Queens have mercy on my little one
Let me climb aboard and shake my tin can O' mighty one

Queen of the south whizzing away empty dreams packed into boxes
Mind your rails for some dreams are worth than empty boxes

As I hold the sleeping baby in my arms
Lament I do over spilt milk once in my palms

Once I too had a dream when my king trod the earth
Speed kills they say, somewhere along the road someone forgot the oath

No cries or wails could bring back a fallen soldier
Cried I did, arid Black Rivers turned cold

So young sir don't look away
My heart wails with every sway

Hear me O' winds of the West
Carry my pain away to the Temple of the West

With every cent that hits the shallow can
My heart pains but my mind thanks for you made me believe I can

Dreams I do have of simple pleasures
Where my little one runs afree of unbound chains

As I walk back home I see dark shadows among the dark aisles
Beckoning my poor mind to delve into walk 'em dark miles
Her cry brings me back to Earth
I remember that I have to light my family hearth

She sleeps peacefully in her ragged cot
As I light up my pot

Looking at the setting sun I ask every day
When will my chains unseen break free? Somewhere Someone says; Someday

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